


Burning bright, burning out

by Awesomecake



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Doctor Who 50th Anniversary, Gen, Missing Scene, One Shot, Regeneration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-08
Updated: 2014-01-08
Packaged: 2018-01-08 01:06:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1126557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awesomecake/pseuds/Awesomecake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The "missing scene" from the 50th Anniversary: the Doctor's first moments as Nine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burning bright, burning out

Time energy rages through his body, burning, razing, a brilliant fire in black and gold. His soul clings desperately to itself, trying to hold on to what it is and what it knows - _  
_

_Gallifrey falls no more  
_

_This time he'd saved it, saved everyone – all those children_

_The Moment had shown him a way, an impossible solution, starting with a fez_

_Bad Wolf_

The pain is becoming unbearable, he's never had a regeneration as bad as this one. His mind becomes a maelstrom of conflicting memories; he remembers saving the day and killing them all, he remembers thirteen police box Tardises working in unison and the blood-soaked fall of Arcadia, he remembers the disintegration and ultimate victory of the Daleks.

He remembers having help and being so very, very alone.

He's losing hold of himself. Images flash and burn in his mind, some burn brighter, some burn out. _He saved Gallifrey_ he destroyed the Time Lords _he had help_ he was always alone _he was the Doctor_ he was a warrior _the Moment was a girl who called herself a wolf_ Bad Wolf. He seeswar _salvation_ destruction _redemption_ blood chaos fire and death. Always death.

_No more._

_No more._

_Gallifrey falls._

The life of the warrior is consumed by the fire, and the Doctor screams. He falls to the floor, overcome by pain, regret, and self-loathing. He did it. He used the Moment to destroy the Daleks, annihilating his own planet, his own _people_ , at the same time. Double genocide, not counting all the lesser species and animals that had called Gallifrey and Skaro their homes. His hands are dry and clean, but he can still feel the blood on them. The space in his head, just behind his eyes, where he used to feel the constant telepathic connection with all the Time Lords and Ladies in the universe is now empty, a black antimatter void that threatens to engulf him.

He is the last of the Time Lords; a murderer, a beast. An exterminator rather than a doctor.

And he is alone. So utterly alone.

He cries.

 

<><><>

 

He doesn't know how long it is before he gets up. He puts on some new clothes that don't smell like dustbloodpainwar _death_ , but his old leather jacket hangs like a punishment over his shoulders, so he keeps it. In a pocket he finds a torn piece of paper with the words “bad wolf” scribbled on it in Gallifreyan. He can't remember what it refers to, so he throws it away.

The Tardis has landed while he regenerated, and he steps outside to see where he is. A littered old alley between two four storey buildings, their once yellow bricks blackened by centuries of pollution, and brightened again by colourful graffiti.

London. His home away from the home he no longer has.

He doesn't want to be here. He wants to find a barren rock somewhere in the furthest reaches of the universe and just stay there, until every regeneration he has left in him has been consumed by time and he dies, at last, all alone and long forgotten.

He turns back to the Tardis, and suddenly he sees it. On the wall to his left, underneath at least three year's worth of tags and torn concert posters, are two words, written in a bright yellow outlined with pink:

_**BAD WOLF** _

A coincidence? Could be, but not likely. Something, or someone, is calling out to him, across time and space. But why? Why would anyone want anything to do with him any more? And why should he care? He's nothing but a lonely killer now, a cowardly criminal on the run from himself. He is no one's saviour.

He steps back into the Tardis and starts to set the course to the sixteenth meta-asteroid of the temporally and dimensionally unstable Vallutian system, right at the very edge of the universe, but something goes _ding_ before he's finished. He looks at the screen and sees a warning for Autons in the area.

Great.

Autons are no big trouble for him, compared to Daleks, but he knows the human race isn't ready to deal with them just yet. He leans heavily on the console, resting his forehead on the side of the screen.

London, 2005. Autons, and a bunch of mildly advanced apes that don't have the nous to do anything about them. He sighs, then punches the console. All right, he'd take care of this _one thing_ , then he'd go. In, out, save anyone who needed saving but not interact with them any more than necessary. One last good deed, then he'd be gone.

He puts on a brave face and leaves the Tardis. It starts to rain as he walks down the street, and he mutters quietly to himself, wishing he had the strength of will to just leave straight away.

“Always with the bleeding hearts, isn't it? Always got to stick my nose in, even when no one's asked me to. Fantastic...”


End file.
